*THEY TOO*

They too, have lain amongst dreams
And perused, in tears, and in a streamlet
Down the torrents of retreating hopes
For the fading face, of happiness.
.
Oft' times, their flattened chuckles
Are accompanied by orchestrated sounds
Of hungry stomachs and rotten foliage
Of infected water.
.
They too, have implored for mercy
Lying on church lawns
Whilst their kwashiorkored legs kicked feebly
And their heart begged for a warmer home.
.
Their footprints are synchronized
On the path of the supple stream
Where they sought their dreams
In a bottle of liquid hope
.
Their hollow eyes
Traveled In plunged requests
To the hearts of the natives, at the market square
For a dime, to quench the belly
Of its humdrum
.
Their hands, held in an accord
Coveting each other's dream
And renouncing desolate days
Ready to flare a good bye
To suffering.
.
Perhaps one day, they would say
I would buy mother a silken towel
And look askance at her ashen face
And tell her the world is void of love.

If by the morrow
We wish upon a shooting star
And lay our heads against the earth
We pray to be deftly sewn
To the wild things of yonder realms
.
But now,
They will scavenge the refuse dump
For a meal or two
To last them a million years.
.
*The Ghostwriter👻*